


Between Black and Silver

by writeandread4fun



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Triwizard Tournament
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:07:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23432902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeandread4fun/pseuds/writeandread4fun
Summary: Hogwarts is hosting the legendary Triwizard Tournament. Dueling champion Hermione Granger and Quidditch ace Bellatrix Black are both in their seventh year. Hermione is looking forward to the end of the year while Bellatrix is dreading it. Nevertheless, both want to compete and all the while their years long rivalry is in the process off changing. What will happen when a certain quarter-Veela enters the picture and there is suddenly a fourth Triwizard champion?
Relationships: Fleur Delacour/Hermione Granger, Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Comments: 65
Kudos: 209





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language.

Chapter 1  
The beginning of the school year was always interesting, if nothing else. There was excitement and joy in the air. The students were happy to see their friends again for the first time in quite a while in most cases. This was especially true for the muggle borne students or the students living with muggle relatives. For this reason, the train ride to Hogwarts could become quite stressful for the prefects. Hermine was on her way to meet the other prefect and the newly appointed head boy or girl. Quite a few people had been sure that this honor would be hers this year. The older Weasley twins had even taken bets and as far as Hermine knew she had been the one with the best odds, followed closely by one Bellatrix Black and since the young half-blood was still just wearing the same badge she had been wearing for two years now … well, quite a few people would be disappointed, especially the other members of Ravenclaw.  
  
While walking down the train she observed the other students. Suddenly a door right in front of her opened an a clearly intoxicated student fell out of the compartment. Hermione rolled her eyes and looked inside. When thinking of the devils…  
  
“Mr. and Mr. Weasley, you would not happen to know what this poor individual is suffering from?” Her voice was full of sarcasm, making very sure to convey that she was quite aware of the student’s status and the Weasleys roll in it. She had been able to smell the compartment the second she had entered the wagon.  
  
“Nope!”, squeaked one of the twins while trying not to let the smoke out of his lungs. Hermione had no idea whether it was Fred or George. It was not as if she did not care enough to try and keep the two apart. In fact, she even considered them friends. Well, almost. She was friendly with them. That was as close as she came to people outside of her family. It was just simply impossible to tell those two apart.  
  
“He must have eaten something wrong before we departed,” the other twin supplied, while the first one tried and failed to exhale inconspicuously. “It’s nothing you have to worry about!”  
  
Hermione had schooled her face into an unreadable expression, but it was very difficult to keep it that way. Slightly panicked looks were exchanged between the inhabitants of the compartment. In addition to the twins there was also another Gryffindor present, a beautiful girl with dark skin and hair. She looked the most uncomfortable. The Weasleys knew Hermione well enough to realize that she would most likely not start busting their balls over some harmless pre-school fun. The female Gryffindor did not have that knowledge. For all she knew Hermione was a total stickler when it came to the rules. After all that was the image Hermione tried very hard to project. It was just not even remotely true.  
  
“Very well,” sighed Hermione while running her left hand through her hair. She had put it into a messy bun. Her locks were not as bushy as they used to. They were actually quite manageable now. She had almost been able to convince herself of this. Oh well, at least her hair did not fall that often into her eyes anymore. “Just make sure he is somewhat presentable when the other prefects are making their rounds. Some of them will not be as willfully oblivious as I am right now.”  
  
The twins relaxed immediately. “Absolutely, the health and safety of our fellow students is always our primary concern,” assured Fred. At least Hermione assumed that it was Fred. She had not actual evidence to back up that assumption. She simply had flipped a coin in her head. But she had to laugh when she heard that. The twins chuckled as well. Angelina, that was the name of the beauty keeping those troublemakers’ company, wasn’t it, slowly began to realize that she was not in trouble.  
  
“Great!” Hermione exclaimed and continued her way down the train. She had worked quite hard in order to become a prefect, but she had absolutely no interest in being one. Or at least in having the responsibilities of one. She very much liked the privileges that came with the badge. A privat room, a generous bathroom and nobody looked gave her grief when she was out and about during the night. Not that she really needed that third one. During her first three years at Hogwarts she had become very familiar with the old castle and its secrets and even better at evading trouble. Well, at least trouble she was not actively looking for. But as a prefect she no longer had to hide when she was spending her nights in the library. So, no more disruptions during her study sessions. That alone worth it.  
  
While Hermione turned, she could see Fred’s eyes flickering down to her breasts and his grin turned into a very happy bright smile. Not because of her breasts, even though they were quite the sight to behold in the formfitting white button-up shirt she was wearing below her open school robes. At least in Hermione’s own totally unbiased opinion. No, Fred was far more interested in the badge she was still wearing. Still being the operative word here. Apparently, the rumors were true, and the twins had been taking bets. If his smile was any indication the twins just made quite a bit of money. Good for them.  
  
Behind Hermione the Gryffindors went to pick up their fallen comrade. Angelina did not appreciate this close call with trouble, if the hushed yet still very angry voice was any indication to go by. But if she did not want to be in trouble she was most definitely in the wrong compartment. Probably in the wrong school, to be honest. The twins laughed her concerns off. Of course, they would.  
  
While Hermione continued her way, she could see the boy-who-lived just a few compartments down. He was accompanied by the younger Weasley twins. No surprise there. Since those three had started their education at Hogwarts they had been almost inseparably, and they seemed to be very intended to take the title of greatest troublemakers from the older Weasley twins. Well, to be fair, they did not so much make trouble as they were running right into it. Nevertheless, if Hermione was taking her prefect duties even a bit more seriously, she would keep a very close eye on them. But she didn’t and so she reasoned that they were not in her house, so they were not her problem.  
  
Potter was reading the Prophet. Most likely another article about the disastrous conclusion of the Quidditch World Cup. Hermione herself had not attended the final game or any other game for that matter. Her grandmother had organized some tickets for the family. She still had some excellent connections in the ministry from her time as the Head-Auror. But since she knew that Hermione had absolutely no interest in Quidditch whatsoever she had instead sent her granddaughter to a small dueling competition, knowing that that was Hermione’s passion. When the family had returned from the final game, they all had expressed a regret to not join Hermione. Funny what a death eater riot will do to someone’s vacation. Now they were all screaming about His mark in the sky. Typical. People had been insured, the entire camping area had been burned down and a muggle family had been terrorized, but were they looking for the culprits? Of course not. The scary firework was far more important. She knew why, of course. Voldemort’s reign of terror was still fresh in the mind of the people. Some former death eaters getting drunk and “having some fun” was one thing. Terrible and troubling, for sure. But since most of them had been able to avoid Azkaban because of their connections, they were largely tolerated as long as they did not go too far. Nobody was killed, not even the muggles. At least that was the unofficial position of the minister. But painting the Dark Mark in the sky was going over the line. Hypocrites.  
  
Hermione gave Potter a greeting not which was returned by the younger wizard. The two of them always had somewhat of an understanding, despite the fact that they barley interacted. But they had both lost their parents to Voldemort’s insanity, so they shared a bond. A tragic and dark bond, absolutely. But a connection none the less. This was also the reason why Hermione kept looking out for the Longbottom boy. Technically his parents were still alive, but not really. They had not raised him; he could not even have a real conversation with them. When she thought about that Hermione was glad that her parents were dead. And then she always felt horrible for thinking that. Which is why she avoided thinking about Longbottom. Ronald Weasley said something that made Potter grin and prompted his twin sister to hit him quite forcefully. One would think that he of all people would know better than to enrage Ginevra, but he was a very slow learner.  
  
Hermione grinned, shook her head and kept on walking. After another couple of minutes, she finally arrived at the compartment she had been summoned to. She entered it and knew immediately that the older Weasley twins would be ecstatic. Bellatrix Black was not wearing the head girl badge either. Black’s head whipped around when she entered the compartment, her grey eyes shooting to Hermione’s chest. When she saw that Hermione was not wearing a new badge either she visibly relaxed.  
  
Hermione gave her a lopsided smile while she sat down. “No, need to look so happy, Black,” she drawled. “You place way too much value in status symbols.” Bellatrix barred her heath and spat: “It is not about that. It is about recognizing excellence. MY excellence to be precise.” Hermione only grinned.  
  
“I don’t think it is just about that,” said a calm voice behind them. Cedric Diggory entered the by now full compartment, his new head boy badge on his chest. “After all, both of you have better grades than me. It must be about more than academic achievements.”  
  
He was quite obviously trying to keep the peace. For a second it looked as if Bellatrix would say something hurtful or at least try to argue, but then she just gave a curt nod. Hermione said nothing as well. She did not care about the whole subject all that much. Cedric smiled and started to do his duty as head boy, namely explaining the prefect’s tasks. Hermione zoned out immediately and so did Bellatrix, if her expression was anything to go by. They had barley listened to the speech when it had been given to them for the first time, two years ago. Know they were both in der their final year and knew what was expected of them.  
  
After all of that was done Hermione and Bellatrix were the last ones to leave, while the other prefects were already doing their rounds. Suddenly Bellatrix leaped to her feet.  
  
“You can pretend all you want, but I know for certain that you would have taken the position of head girl without hesitation, too,” hissed the young witch, her unruly black curls falling in her face, making her look somewhat unhinge.  
  
“Of course, I would have,” Hermione agreed. “Who wouldn’t? It is quite the honor and would look great on my resume. But that is the extend of my interest in the position. I don’t actually want to be head girl. I can barely tolerate all the prefect responsibilities. Can you honestly tell me it is any different for you?”  
  
There was a short moment of silence. Bellatrix had apparently expected a different reaction. Hermione was not sure why. The Slytherin and the Ravenclaw knew each other quite well after all. They most certainly were not friend’s, barley even friendly. They were rivals and had been since they stared at Hogwarts. But the nature of their rivalry had improved as time went on.  
  
“No,” Bellatrix admitted finally. „But I really hoped I would get the position anyway.”  
  
She looked somewhat deflated. Hermione was honestly confused.  
  
“Why?”, she asked and stood up as well. “It is just Dumbledore’s personal opinion and you have never cared about that before.”  
  
“That is not entirely true. Sure, his personal believes, especially his political believes, are … somewhat naïve, let’s just leave it at that. Not need to start a debate over this right now. But he is one of the greatest wizards of our time. I would not ignore is magical expertise.”  
  
“But the head girl or boy position is entirely based on personal believes,” Hermione retorted. “Even Diggory just admitted that. If it were just about magical capabilities one of us would definitely have gotten it.”  
  
Hermione did not add that she was fairly confident, that she would have gotten it. She is the brightest witch of her age after all. Or so people keep telling her. But brining that up would not help the situation. She had learned long ago when she could taunt Bellatrix and when it was better to just shut up. When they were surrounded by the other students taunting was alright. Bellatrix even expected it as part of the stupid house rivalry. But when they were alone it was better to stick to light teasing. In these somewhat personal situations Bellatrix allowed herself to be just a little bit vulnerable and she would see it as a betrayal if Hermione would push too far. Since the Ravenclaw had put quite a bit of effort into normalizing their relationship she did not want to endanger it. It had been very difficult to get even just a little bit closer to Bellatrix. Apart from that it was never smart to underestimate Bellatrix. She would go to great length in order to spite someone and to even greater length to prove herself.  
  
“Yeah,” mumbled Bellatrix. Her voice was barely audible. “But my aunt really expected it from me.”  
  
Oh, so more pureblood nonsense. Walburga Black was after all not known for rational thinking. She despised Albus Dumbledore with every fiber of her being and considered his opinion to be absolutely worthless, but she still expected her niece to become head girl. Walburga Black herself could probably not even explain why. She probably did not even connect those two thoughts in her own mind. Even if one were to point that out to her, she would still want Bellatrix to become head girl because she was a Black and Blacks were superior to everyone else. Hermione did not envy Bellatrix’s position, especially since the oldest of the Black sister always had to compete against Hermione, which was never easy, unless it was flying brooms. Fuck those things.  
  
Hermione and Bellatrix went on their round together in silence, but it was a comfortable silence. They completely ignored the other students and what they were up to, Bellatrix did not even bully any first years, something she used to enjoy very much, but she had slowly stopped over the years. Very slowly. Even last year one very unluck first year and caught her ire. But not now. After a while Bellatrix started a conversation about an article about transfiguration, she had read just a few days ago. Hermione immediately knew what she was talking about and they simply enjoyed the conversation with the only other student in Hogwarts who could truly challenge them, both mentally and intellectually.  
  
//  
Slowly they sun disappeared behind the mountains as the came closer to Hogwarts. It was a reminder that their time together would inevitably come to an end. Bellatrix hated that. She would never admit that to anyone, she was almost not capable of admitting that to herself, but she had missed Hermione. It was ridiculous. Bellatrix was the scion of her House, the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black and she had spent almost her entire summer thinking about a damn half-blood. Well, that was not really true. She had read quite a bit ahead, had practiced magic behind the powerful wards of their home and they had been at the Quidditch World Cup. But when she had not been busy, she had missed the Ravenclaw.  
  
For a moment Bellatrix had been afraid that her short outburst after the meeting would end the conversation before it even began. But Hermione was as calm as always and would not be deterred by the famous Black temper. When they were walking around an discussing the merits of McGonagall’s new methods, Bellatrix was genuinely happy. The article their teacher had written had been very advanced, and they would most likely not even discuss it during their N.E.W.T. courses, which was a shame. So, there was very little, that could bring Bellatrix down during the train ride. Not even Rodolphus’s angry face when they walk past his compartment could dampen her mood. A few years ago, when Bellatrix and Hermione had first started talking to another in more than just taunting, he had tried to stop that, but her fiancé had learned the hard way, that Bellatrix did not belong to him. Yet.  
  
There it was. That thought brought the dread back and it settled in her stomach like a rock. For the first time in quite a while Bellatrix became aware of her surroundings. The train ride to Hogwarts was almost over. She did not want it to be over, because that would mean that her last year in school would begin. Then it would go on and finally it would end. She did not want it to end. She wanted it to go on and on and on. Because she dreaded what would come afterwards.  
  
Luckily Hermione noticed the change in Bellatrix and did something she would only do in the most desperate of situations: She asked about Quidditch.  
  
“Hey, I meant to ask you, were you at the Quidditch World Cup?”  
  
Bellatrix was surprised and could not answer for a second. Hermione did not care about Quidditch. It was one of the very few subjects the two of them would not talk about. That, their parents and Bellatrix’s family situation. About everything else they could talk or rather have a discussion. Bellatrix Black and Hermione Granger did not simply talk. But if the Ravenclaw was broaching the subject Bellatrix would take advantage of it.  
  
“Yes, we were actually. It was great. I mean, sure it was incredibly one sited, but we had so much fun. They had Veela there! And we had the best seats. But those players…! I mean the Irish ones. Krum carried his team to the finals, sure and he is one of the best, but the entire Irish team is amazing, not just their seeker. Especially those beaters. They demolished Krum! You should have seen him afterwards, he was done, just done!”  
  
Hermione smiled a little bit and Bellatrix had to grin even harder. The Slytherin was a beater herself and she would return as the captain of her house’s team this year. That was a position she was actually proud of. Not that her aunt appreciated this one. The daughter of a noble line should not play Quidditch, it was not appropriate for a lady. But that did not matter know. She rambled one about the match and Hermione indulged her.  
  
“Very impressive,” the Ravenclaw finally interjected. “I did not think your aunt would get you tickets.”  
  
“Oh, no, she absolutely did not”, confirmed Bellatrix. “And she really did not want us to go, but we were invited by the Malfoys, so she had to accept.”  
  
“Well, that was very nice of them,” Hermione commented. The way she said it made clear that she expected some sort of catch. And there was one of course.  
  
“Yeah, well … it was in order to celebrate the engagement of Lucius and Cissy,” Bellatrix admitted quietly.  
  
“Lucius Malfoy. The little annoyance in fourth grade?”  
  
“Yeah,” confirmed Bellatrix quietly.  
  
“And your sister Narcissa.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Who is also in fourth grade?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Bellatrix’s voice was pained. She knew where this would lead. She used to think it normal. After all, she had been engaged since she was twelve. Now that thought made her dizzy.  
  
“Both of them are fourteen years old,” stated Hermione. Her voice was cold. Bellatrix almost flinched. It took all her self-control to appear calm.  
  
“Yeah,” she finally chocked out.  
  
“Fucking Purebloods,” the Ravenclaw hissed. This time Bellatrix did actually flinch. She wanted to say something, anything to justify the situation. She had the arguments, straight from the mouth of her aunt. There had been a time when Bellatrix would have screamed them at Hermione. She would have proclaimed the superiority auf the Pureblood over all other beings. She would have defended their way of live. But now those words never left her mouth. She could not say for sure when she had stopped believing them, but she had and now all she had left was that hollow feeling in her chest.  
  
Hermione was quiet for a while. At first Bellatrix hoped she would start talking again. But then she suddenly was afraid of what they would talk about next. What had happened after the match. About the death eaters. They had never really talked about it but there was one thing Bellatrix was always aware of: their parents. More importantly, who they were and what had happened to them. Hermione’s parents had both been murdered by death eaters. Bellatrix did not know the specifics, but as far as anyone knew it was a tragic story. Hermione’s mother had been the offspring of a pureblood family. Not one of the sacred twenty-eight, but still well respected, at least for a Gryffindor family. She had married a mudbl… muggle-borne wizard and had a daughter. Then they had been murdered by death eaters in order to make an example. The father died protecting his wife and child. Hermione’s mother had died with her child in her arms. Only the child had survived. It was a very familiar story. Potter and Hermione were not the only ones, it happened quite a lot during those times. Most of the time the children were not as lucky as those two.  
  
Now, Hermione’s parents had not been murdered by Bellatrix’s and Bellatrix thanked every god and spirit that might or might not exist that that was the case. Bellatrix’s story was different, but it also ended without parents. Hers were both in Azkaban. They had tortured the Longbottoms into insanity. Bellatrix still made sure to never cross the path of their son.  
  
Bellatrix’s thoughts spun out of control. She could not take it anymore and was about to excuse herself. She was not good with emotions, especially these kinds of emotions since they were relatively new. She sometimes missed being ignorant and blinded by pride.  
  
“Well, I was at a small local dueling competition. And since I am 17, I could even compete.”  
  
Bellatrix was incredibly thankful for the change of topic. They were finally back on a subject they both enjoyed, dueling. They had both joined the dueling club in their first year at Hogwarts and had excelled. Their skill level had been very close, it still was today. But when Bellatrix had started playing Quidditch Hermione had been able to widen her lead, even though Bellatrix was still participating in the club. When they were in fifth grade Hermione had become the dueling-champion of Hogwarts, beating a Slytherin from the seventh grade. No one, not even Bellatrix, had been able to take that title from her since then and she would most likely leave Hogwarts undefeated.  
  
“How did you do?”, Bellatrix asked, genuinely curious.  
  
“I won,” Hermione stated calm. There was just a little bit of pride in her voice. “It was not easy. There were some pretty good duelists. I was disarmed a few times, lost some matches, but not a single set.”  
  
“I’m impressed,” stated Bellatrix. She really was. There were always some decent combatants at these events, even at the small ones.  
  
“Yeah, well, the competition was not that hard. Most were probably focused on the World Cup”, Hermione tried to downplay her accomplishment. Bellatrix knew that Hermione hated bragging. She liked it, when her actions were lauded but she did not like talking about her successes herself. It was a very selective form of humility.  
  
“Anyway,” the Ravenclaw quickly said before Bellatrix could start teasing here about it. “We should probably head back to our compartments. We will be at the train station soon.”  
  
“Yes,” Bellatrix agreed. She just managed to suppress a sigh. “We probably should. Talk to you again soon?”  
  
She was very anxious right now. They usually spoke when they ran into each other. There had never been a plan to do so before. It just happened sometimes. Neither one had stated the intention to talk again. Would Hermione say something? Bellatrix hated showing weakness, but if this was to be her last year of freedom, she would make the best of it, even if it meant taking some chances. But she needn’t have worried.  
  
“Of course,” Hermione smiled and looked her straight in the eyes. That always send a shiver down the spine of the Slytherin. Hermione’s irises were so dark the appeared to be black. So black that one could not say with certainty where the pupils started. There were some specs of bright grey and even a little bit of gold on the outside of here irises, like stars being sucked into the void. One could get lost in those eyes, if one was not careful.  
  
“I am looking forward to it,” the Ravenclaw added, ripping Bellatrix out of her thoughts. “Until then.”  
  
With that she gave Bellatrix a short wave, more just a lifting of her hand, and walked off.  
  
“Until then,” mumbled Bellatrix. She was looking forward to it, too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the feedback!
> 
> I'm still figuring a lot of things out, but I hope you like what I've done so far.

Chapter 2  
The arrival at Hogwarts was as stressful as always. The prefects were busy finding al the first years and making sure they would end up with Hagrid, so they could embark on their boat ride across the Great Lake. Despite the stress and the growing pain in her back Hermione had to smile when she thought back to her own first day at the school. When they were finally on the carriages Hermione could relax a bit and take her pain-relief-potion.

The Great Hall was filled with excitement. Then professor McGonagall led the first years in, as always. Hermione had already mentally checked out. She was going through magical theorems and models in her mind so she would know which books to look when she would visit the library later in the evening. She would have taken her notebook, well her grimoire as she liked to call it, out and looked some things up, but that would not have gone over well with anyone, really. She was not brought out of her train of thought whenever a student was sorted and their new house was celebrating and even dutifully clapped when there was a new Ravenclaw, even though Hermione actually considered the house system to be quite stupid. It only seemed to foster conflict.

Hermione had to admit that she did fit in very well in Ravenclaw despite her own views on the houses. She was a diligent student after all. She would still have preferred to be in Gryffindor. Then she could position herself in a way that she would have a wall behind her. In Ravenclaw she had to choose between having Hufflepuff and Gryffindor or only Slytherin behind her. That was not really a choice now, was it? Would it be worth to be in Slytherin just in order to have nobody behind her? Hermione was not sure about that.

The Ravenclaw was annoyed when she realized that she had stopped thinking about useful subjects. She was about to get back to it when Dumbledore finally started the feast. Hermione loved the feast. Well, she loved eating delicious food and there was so much of it now. Tomorrow she would go on a run around the Great Lake before class. Well, probably not around the whole lake. But a nice, long run to start her day was always great. After all she had to stay in shape. Most wizards and witches did not deem physical exercise useful. To them it was a muggle thing. Who needed physical fitness when one had magic? To feel good. That alone was enough for Hermione to continue her regiment. But on top of that she had also noticed that it helped her dueling. Dueling was very physically demanding and so Hermione used every opportunity she had to improve her stamina, both through physical and magical exercise. It was almost as necessary as magical knowledge and understanding. At least for now. After all, she would not stay young and fit forever, but that was not a thought she wanted to entertain … ever really. Besides, by that time her magical experience would be great enough to best anyone. That was the plan, at least. Anyway, since she had spent almost half her childhood with her father’s loving sister and her amazing family, all of them muggles, she had quite a different relationship to all things muggle than most pure and half-bloods, and she was glad about it.

During the feast she caught up with some of her housemates. She was not all that close with them, but as a prefect she tried to stay at least somewhat informed about their overall state of being. She had a nice, if decidedly very weird conversation with Luna Lovegood. But that could be said about almost all conversation with the young witch. When she had first been sorted into Ravenclaw Hermione had reacted the way most of her housemates had reacted: with annoyance. Such a quirky and dreamy girl surely had no place in the most studious of the houses. But Hermione learned fast that Luna was very intelligent and highly perceptive.

Unfortunately, their fellow Ravenclaw had yet to notice that. They thought that she did not belong. That was why Luna was constantly the target of their childish jokes. Even before Hermione had noticed that Luna truly was a Ravenclaw she had reacted very strongly about that. Back when she was in fourth grade and Luna was in her first Hermione had caught some students trying to hide some of Luna’s belongings. She had made sure they would not try that again. After that Hermione had gotten to know the blonde better and learned that she was actually very pleasant company, despite their age difference.

Hermione had was pretty sure that her sudden interest in helping another student had helped her becoming prefect. But then again, she always had been Professor Flitwick’s favorite student, so she probably would have gotten her badge even if she had never talked to another Ravenclaw. And she did talk to them. She did not actively seek them out, but when they asked for her help, she would provide it as long as what they asked was within reason.

Luna had just finished her story about a creature and Hermione was skeptical about its existence when the other students went quiet. Hermione lost interest in Dumbledore’s words immediately and started going through all the defensive spells she knew. She had arrived at protecto diabolia, which she had not mastered yet by any means, but she was intend on doing so, despite it being a dark spell, when there was a commotion.

Bellatrix looked livid, Cho Chang was pale and behind her Hermione could hear the older Weasley twins yell about something. Hermione had not listed at all to what the headmaster had said, but if all of those very different individuals agreed about it, it had to be about…

“What do you mean, there will be no Quidditch?!?”

Yeah, no surprise here. But why would there be no Quidditch? And, far more importantly, would the dueling competition still take place? It was safe to say that Dumbledore now had Hermione’s undivided attention. He was explaining something about an event stating in October when the enchantments of the Great Hell went haywire. Hermione could feel the excess magic in the air, and she got goose skin all over. A lumbering person had entered the hall, walked up to Dumbledore and exchanged a few words with him. Was that …?

“I would like to introduce to you your new teacher for Defense against the Dark Arts,” Dumbledore said brightly into the silence. “Professor Moody.”

The very modest applause that followed that announcement was drowned out by the muttering of the students. If Hermione was a clapper, she would have added to the applause quite a bit. Alastor Moody was an Auror legend. Mad? Maybe. Well, probably. But there were very few who knew as much about the Dark Arts as him. And how to defend against them, of course. Having him as a Professor would be educating to say the least.

“But where was I?” Dumbledore picked up again. “Right. During the coming month we will have the honor of hosting a legendary event, the Triwizard Tournament!”

Suddenly the atmosphere shifted again, and Moody’s grim appearance had been forgotten. Even Hermione was caught off guard. Nobody could have predicted that. Dumbledore continued with his speech. Hermione listen, but in her head, she was already debating with herself. Would she participate? Winning, hell even just participating, would be a great honor. But this tournament also had an uncomfortable high death rate, at least as far as Hermione could remember. She had read about it once quite a while ago would have to think in over in peace. There were already proclamations of participation made, when Dumbledore mention that one had to be 17 years old in order to enter the, because of said death rate. A lot of people were outraged. Hermione was almost shocked that the ministry had finally made a decision she could consider reasonable. They did not have a great record when it came to minor safety. One look over to the Slytherin table and Hermione knew that Bellatrix had already made up her mind. Bellatrix was quite rash and loved running into danger. The question now was whether Hermione would follow her into it yet again.

After that announcement the students left the Great Hall. Hermione made sure all the new Ravenclaws made it to their house and explained how to get in. After that she went to her own room and took a quick shower. Then she took some secret passages into the library. It was time to do some reading.  
//

Over the next few days Hermione spent quite a bit of time in the library researching the Triwizard Tournament. Dumbledore had told the truth. The competition had a very high death rate. That any sort of student competition had any death rate at al was already insane. But one this high? Sometimes Hermione did not understand the magical world. Not the magic itself, she had not yet found a magical subject she did not excel in. Don’t mention the brooms. Or Divination. That was not a real subject. But Hermione sometimes just could not believe the people of the wizarding world. Their mindsets were just so very … special, let’s go with that. Anyway, apparently the champions were chosen by the so-called Goblet of Fire. At least an inanimate object would be impartial. Hopefully.

Whatever, Hermione was looking forward to the end of the week. To be fair, most students were. But Hermione was excited about a special event. She had been looking forward to it all summer. The first meeting of the dueling club. The Professors Snape and Flitwick had been co-leading the club for at least 10 years. Both of them were accomplished duelists in their own right. Sometime the Defense against the Dark Arts teacher would join them, with mixed results. Sometimes they added something new and interesting to the table, like professor Lupin had even though Snape had not been thrilled about his participation. Sometimes they did not bother with it, like Quirrell, but that had been for the best as it turned out. And once it had been an absolute disaster. Fucking Lockhart. Hermione could still not believe that such an obvious fraud had gotten a teaching position at Hogwarts. Getting such a devoted following? Sad, yes, but people were stupid, so that was not unexpected. But surely Dumbledore was not that easily deceived? Well, either he was, or he wasn’t, and Hermione was not sure what would be worse.

Hermione was on her way to the meeting. She had just put on some comfortable yet stylish clothes. Dark, flat and most importantly worn in and therefor comfortable shoes, black, formfitting trousers and one of her signature button-up-shirts. Today she had picked out a dark blue one. The school robes were not very appropriate for dueling. Not enough freedom of movement.

Hermione’s back was burning quite nicely. It was the curse-scar she had gotten the night her parents had been killed. It was a constant source of pain for her. She had to take potions almost daily, or the pain would become unbearable sooner or later. Today she had not taken her dose yet. She had come to the realization that she dueled better without it. She was sharper, more in the moment and had more energy. She just had to take care not to take it too far, or she would slowly but surely lose control. That could never happen.

The Ravenclaw had also learned that not taking her potions was not helping her studies. She just could not sit still in that state. But that was alright. Afterall that was what the potions were for.

When Hermione entered the dueling room, she was greeted by a very happy Professor Flitwick. He was most of the time happy to see the star of his house and always willing to answer her questions even if they went far beyond the curriculum, which they usually were. Snape gave her a short nod, but by his standards that was practically a hug, especially since she was not a Slytherin. Hermione was quite happy to have won the respect of the potion master. He had a very impressive amount of knowledge both about his chosen subject but also different magical disciplines. Being able to ask for their expertise was an incredible boon.

There were a lot of first years in the room. That was not very surprising, since the dulling was the second most observed pastime after Quidditch, and first years were not yet allowed to apply for the Quidditch teams of their houses. A lot of them lost interest relatively fast. Hermione could for the live of her not figure out why. Dueling was her passion. It was strategic, required both skill and knowledge and was very rewarding when one was willing to put in the time. That was most likely the problem. Most students were just not willing to do that, and it was not that much fun if one just kept losing. At least Hermione suspected that it was not. She would not know from firsthand experience.

Since there would be no Quidditch this year a lot of the students who had left in order to practice that sport had returned. Bellatrix and Potter were pretty much the only Students who were willing to do both and still capable of succeeding. The younger Weasley twins had been part of the dueling club since their first grade, but Hermione suspected that they would leave as soon as they had a position on the Quidditch team. Not that she could fault them for that. If they had more fun playing the ridiculous game, more power to them.

This year the older Weasley twins had returned. They had actually left when they joined the Quidditch team. Hermione wondered whether they had learned some new tricks despite of that. Most likely. They were always up to no good. Angelina Johnson was also back. She probably wanted to brush up on her dueling, since she was planning to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. Cho was here, too. So was Malfoy, the Lestranges and their goons. Oh well, more completion, and throwing them around would be fun. This was promising to turn into a great year for dueling. Hermione could not be happier.

“Welcome, welcome!” Professor Flitwick squeaked exited. “So many new faces. So many old, well older, faces. And even some faces I have not seen in this room for some time. It is good to see you all! Let’s get right to it! Firs years, come with me, I will teach you the rules, the forms and show you the basics. The rest: find a partner, ideally someone you haven’t dueled before and start practicing! Professor Snape will supervise you. And remember: the goal is to disarm your opponent! Do not take it too far!”

Hermione imminently realized that there was not enough room for all of them to duel. So, she went to the side and was content with observing the first duels. Observing and learning about possible opponents was almost as fun as dueling itself. Besides, she would keep track of as many spells as possible. Professor Snape had advised her to do so, even while dueling she should try to remember the spells that were used in other duels. It helped with situational awareness and could save ones live in an actual magical battle.

While Flitwick lead the first years away the duels started. Hermione was a little bit surprised when Bellatrix joined her on the sidelines. The Queen of Slytherin loved dueling almost as much as Hermione and did not value observing and learning about opponents all that much as long as they were not Hermione. She firmly believed she could beat anyone of them anyway. She was properly right.

The Slytherin was wearing one of her usual dresses. With a corset. For dueling! She looked great, no question and so far, her choice of clothing had yet to impact her dueling capabilities, but still. Hermione was not against feminine clothing on principal, even though she had not worn the skirt of her school uniform in years. It was just … there was a place and a time for a dress and in her opinion, dueling was not one of them. But then again, it seemed to work for the other women, and it was none of her business anyway, so why continue thinking about it.

“Are you looking forward to the tournament?” Bellatrix asked after a few seconds.

“Maybe,” Hermione replied. “If I decide to throw my name in the goblet, sure, then I will be looking forward to it. But if not, then it is just noise.”

“What do you mean: if you throw your name in the goblet?” Bellatrix asked aghast. “Why would you not?”

“Because people die in the tournament?”

“You can die falling down a flight of stairs! It is a chance to win eternal glory!”

“Nothing is eternal, and Glory means little to the dead,” Hermine replied dryly. “It won’t fill your stomach either nor pay for a roof over your head.”

“No, but the 1000 galleons in prizemoney will,” Bellatrix was rolling her eyes now. “I know your family is well of, but I’m guessing you could still use that money.”

Hermione gave a noncommittal shrug, but Bellatrix was right. That money would surely help no matter what she decided to do after Hogwarts. Her family was not poor by any means. She never had to worry about money before. Still, the prizemoney would certainly help her start her own live. But she was getting way ahead of herself.

The duels were now in full swing. The raven medallion Hermione was wearing beneath her button-up-shirt was humming noticeably. It was reacting to all the somewhat harmful magic in the air. If a spell was aimed at her it would grow hot and jump around on her chest. It had saved her from some Slytherin ambushes on multiple occasions.

“Besides,” the black-haired beauty continued. “You can bet you would get a book deal if you won. And it would look amazing and that resume you keep going on, you could pick whichever job you want.”

Hermione was still keeping track of all the spells being used, but it was getting harder to concentrate on it.

“I can already do that,” she mumbled. Damn it, Bellatrix was making some good points. Time to change the subject.

“Why are you so invested in getting me to participate?” Hermione asked. “If I don’t throw my name in there you will almost certainly be the one to represent Hogwarts. I don’t think Diggory or Johnson have a chance against you.”

Bellatrix was silent for a moment.

“It would not be the same,” Bellatrix finally admitted. “If I’m chosen and I know that you did not even try … it would not be right. I want to be the champion of Hogwarts because I am the best not because my strongest competition did not even take part in the selection.”

Hermione hummed thoughtfully and nodded. She could understand that logic. Dueling club would not be nearly as interesting as it was if Bellatrix would stop participating. People like them needed someone to measure themselves against and it had to be a real competition otherwise it would be boring.

“I’ll seriously consider it,” Hermione finally assured her rival. The first round of duels was over, and some were already moving to the sidelines. “Let’s go.”

Bellatrix grinned and they took their starting positions.

Bellatrix tried to end the duel before it even began by beginning with a strong, almost brutal, and quick offence. The duels she did win against Hermione usually went like this. She had to hurry to overwhelm the Ravenclaw before she settled into a rhythm. It had become almost impossible to defeat her in a lengthy engagement and they both knew it, eventhood the Slytherin was very athletic herself and almost certainly physically stronger. Which is why Bellatrix had been working almost exclusively on her offence. It also fit her personality very well.

Unfortunately, because of their previous encounters Hermione was aware of Bellatrix’s battleplan. She had trained hard in order to overcome such a destructive offence, since going on the offensive herself, trying to out-speed the Slytherin and hoping for the best was a coinflip. Sometimes it worked sometimes it did not and that was not acceptable for the Ravenclaw. Hermione was able to deflect the barrage of spells, jinxes and hexes, her movements a short and precise, but not panicked or forced. She moved like a conductor, bringing order to the unleashed chaos. Nevertheless, Bellatrix came close to succeeding. She had learned some new aggressive spells and had mastered some of the old ones over the summer. But close was not good enough.

Hermione was a firm believer in the fact that a strong offence was the best defense. One could have the best defense in the world, if one was unable to defeat the opponent there still remained a chance that a spell made it through. Not that Hermione’s defense was weak, not by any means. She deflected, dispelled, blocked or simply dogged anything Bellatrix would throw at her. But sometimes that was not enough and trying to further bolster her defense did not sit right with the Ravenclaw. So, she went back to her aforementioned belief, devised a strategy more in line with it and trained until she could actually pull it off. Now she did not have to try and outlast the onslaught, she went on the offensive herself while Bellatrix was still in full swing.

Bellatrix had not been expecting a counterattack. She honestly had not anticipated that Hermione would be able to retaliate so soon. After all, usually Hermione tried to outlast her since she would still win more often than not. That assumption was wrong. A simple stinging jinx flew right through Bellatrix’s barrage and hit her wand arm. Her offensive was interrupted for just a second, but that was enough time for Hermione to hit her square in the chest with a powerful flipendo. She was knocked back a few meters, landed on her back and her wand fell out of her hand.

Bellatrix looked up at the ceiling and took a second to comprehend what just happened. She also needed to catch her breath. Hermione’s spell had knocked all the air out of her lungs. She was extremely thankful that the teachers had softened the floor right about now. Then the Ravenclaw appeared in her field of view, shot her a mischievous smile, her unique eyes sparkling and offered Bellatrix her hand. The Slytherin gladly took it. When she was on her feet Hermione handed her her wand back.

Bellatrix had been altering between silent and spoken casting. She had tried to confuse Hermione and could have been silent the entire time. That was the tactic Hermine had been using and it had worked very well. Bellatrix had not noticed the stinging jinx until she was already hit.

Bellatrix realized then that quite a few people were looking at them. Most of them seem very impressed. It had been a good showing from both of them, despite the sudden ending.

“Yes,” drawled Snape and walked over to them. “Very impressive” He did not sound all that impressed. “Now get back to it!”

“Not bad, Miss Granger,” Snape’s sounded almost pleased. “Good to know my time was not entirely wasted.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Hermione simply replied, but they could hear the smirk in her voice. Bellatrix was perplexed. She was missing something, and she hated it.

“As for you, Miss Black,” Snape continued, ignoring Hermione and the tone in her voice completely. “Same as always. You are too focused on your own spells and performance. Against an adequately skilled opponent your lack of awareness will cost you, as you just saw. Again. Pay attention the wand movements against silent casters. They tell you early enough whether an attack is coming, or a defense is attempted.”

“Yes, Professor,” Bellatrix mumbled. “Thank you for your advice.”

Snape nodded, walked back and continued observing the other students. They were far less impressive, if his expression was anything to go by.

“Damn you,” Bellatrix hissed. “Did you spend your entire summer practicing?”

“Do you still want me to throw my name in the goblet?” Hermione shot back. Bellatrix was silent for a moment.

“Yes,” she finally answered. But she did not sound that happy about it anymore.

Hermione hummed skeptically. “If you say so. Rematch?”

“Absolutely! You won’t be able to do that twice!”

“We’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? Let me know!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the comments and the kudos, they mean a lot to me!
> 
> Here is something about Hermione’s upbringing and mindset. Also, a confrontation.
> 
> I hope you like it!

Chapter 3  
Hermione’s fourth year at Hogwarts  
Goals are important. That was one of the first lessons Hermione was thought by her grandmother. The old woman always took the education of her first grandchild very serious. The will of Hermione’s parents had made it clear, that in the event of their death she was to spend at least half her time with the family of her father’s sister, a muggle. Jean and John Granger wanted their daughter to understand both of their upbringings and their worlds. Magrath Thorn respected the wishes of her daughter and son-in-law. Oh, she could have ignored the will. Who was going to challenge her? She was respected throughout the magical community, former Head-Auror and very well connected. Nobody would have thought twice about giving her custody of the young witch. But she would have never forgiver herself for ignoring the last will of her firstborn. Magrath even would have felt bad for ignoring Johns last wishes. He had clearly loved Jean and they had been so very happy together. Who cares that he was muggle born? The Thorns had never been particularly interested in the pureblood ideology and culture. And Magrath very much understood the value of knowing one’s roots. So, Hermione went to a muggle school until she was old enough to go to Hogwarts. She even spent half her holydays with the muggle part of her family.

Nevertheless, Magrath was going to make sure that her granddaughter also learned about the magical world and arrive at Hogwarts prepared. Any descendant of her was going to be successful, after all. Sure, the girl obviously had great magical potential and a bright mind to channel it, but the most important thing for success was the right mindset. That was why she taught her granddaughter about the importance of goals. Pick something you want to achieve and then peruse it. And not just in the short term. Short-term goals should always serve the long-term goals, that gave structure and purpose to ones live. But how does one explain that to a child?

So, Magrath made a game out of it and picked the long-term goal for the child. She started when Hermione began with muggle school. Hermione was to have the best grades in her class. She certainly was smart enough and loved learning. Should she archive that she was going to get a book. The beginners guide to magic. Of course, the girl would achieve that goal without the incentive, but that was not the point. Neither was the reward, since Magrath wanted her to read that book anyway. But this way, Magrath hoped, Hermione would learn about the importance of long-term goals and planning. It worked.

The goal stayed the same until Hermione went to Hogwarts. It also did not change for the first three years there. Only the books she was rewarded with became more and more rare and advanced. When Hermione’s fourth year started, she asked her grandmother whether she could pick this year’s goal herself.

“Well, that depends,” Magrath answered. “What do you have in mind?”

“I want to convince Professor Snape to tutor me. In addition to the lessons and dueling club I mean. In both dueling and potion making.”

Magrath was very pleased with that goal. It would not be easy to complete. Snape was famous for being difficult to approach, unwilling to indulge students and biased towards his house. She had no problem with the fact that he had been a Death Eater. Albus guaranteed that he had always been on the right side and that was good enough for her. The information gathered by the potion master had saved many lives during the war. There was also no clear path to follow. Having the best grades? That can be done with hard work and determination. Sit down and learn. You do not need to be the smartest to do that, though that does help, of course.

“That is quite the challenge, my dear. I’m looking forward to see how you will approach it.”

Hermione knew that it would not be easy. There was only few things Snape respected, the most important ones being: Knowledge and skill, especially in his areas of expertise. There was the problem. She was a skilled duelist, but potions was not her best subject. Oh, she had very good grades, but she was not top of her class. That had something to do with Snape’s biases, certainly. Her essays were always well written and researched and she was capable of following the instructions in their textbooks. Unfortunately, those textbooks were ... not optimal. The instruction did not always lead to the promised result, even if following them to the letter. Hermione also knew the answers to all of Snape’s questions, but she did not raise her hand that often in his classroom. The reason for that was simple. She was known for being a know-it-all. She did not mind that. She liked learning, knowing the right answers and getting recognition for her knowledge. If her peers thought, her uncool because of it she could only pity them. Being proud of one’s ignorance. Pathetic.

But Hermione knew which teachers appreciated her input and which did not. Snape was seated very firmly in the second category, especially since he knew that she had no real passion for the subject. Hermione did know why. Dueling was her passion. It had been since before she had gotten her wand and because of that she truly excelled in subjects that had some sort of connection to dueling, like charms, transfiguration or defense against the Dark Arts. She was very angry with her past self for being that stupid. Potions was an incredibly useful subject. Fortunately, she had an opportunity here. She would earn Snape’s respect by igniting a passion for his subject withing herself and truly excel at it as well. Then she would be one step closer to her goal and have learned something useful in the process. There were only upsides!

Well, in theory at least. While sitting in the library, working through this year’s textbook and looking up even more expertise in other book, she could not help but notice, that it felt exactly as it had felt the years before. She could stay focused and she was making progress, but she did not feel the excitement she felt when deepening her understanding of favorite subjects.

There was just no way to connect potions to dueling, was there? The healing aspects were useful for one, but that was also something she was only mildly interested in, by her standards anyway, since it was something that happened after the duel was over. Could one weaponize potions? Certainly. They could enhance one’s stamina and reflexes. Those were not allowed in a formal duel. Suddenly it hit her. Every formal duel was a fight but not every fight was a formal duel. As a matter of fact, most were not. How could she have been this blind? How else could potions change a fight? Poisons? No, but they also had their uses, let’s file them away for later. Grenades? Dangerous, but maybe … But it was absolutely possible to create explosions or deadly gas. Or even just disorienting gas. It was true that those things could also be accomplished with spells, but those needed time and, more importantly, energy. She was finally getting exited.

The problem with these ideas was that they were not suitable for now. Those were things she could experiment with later, and defiantly in private. But now it was only a question of finding the right kind of project to start with. Something difficult, so she could impress the unflappable potions master. Ideally it would have some sort of connection to her live, so she could justify her interest in it. Oh, Merlin.

How could she have been so ignorant, stupid and simply incapable of noticing anything?!?

Her curse-scar! It was burning all the time. She could make it bearable, but the pain never went away entirely. And how did she make it bearable? With a potion, of course! She had to take a dose every couple of days, more often if the scar was acting up. And this potion was very difficult to brew, if madam Pomfrey was to be believed. Every potion she had consumed while at Hogwarts had probably been prepared by Snape! She had been so focused on her studies and dueling that she had never thought about that. In her defense, those potions were simply part of her daily live, she had been taking them for as long as she could remember, hell even before then. She just had taken them for granted. Not anymore! She was going to learn how to make them. To be honest it was preposterous that she had never thought of learning how brew this potion, since she would eventually go mad or even die without it.

Hermione had always assumed that it was a pain relief potion, but now that she thought about it, that was impossible. Those were either highly addictive, toxic or both if taken over a longer period of time. She would have been dead for years. Besides, those potions would do her no good anyway, since there was still some part of the curse left in her scar. Not even the most skilled curse-breakers had been able to get rid of it. It was too deep in her flesh, the risk to her life was simply too great. She had no idea what exactly the potion was accomplishing, and she had never questioned it. The things you can grow accustomed to… Well, no matter. At least she knew the name. It was time to learn something about the Tears of Viviane.

This turned out to be a very demanding project. Students were allowed to use the cauldrons in the potions classroom, if said classroom was currently not being used. That was necessary, since potions was very praxis oriented. The best theoretical understanding of the subject meant nothing, if it could not translate into the desired potion. Hermione most certainly had the necessary theoretical understanding and had taken advantage of that offer once or twice before, but it had been out of a sense of duty, when she had to make sure she really had understood something. This time it felt better, but that did not mean that everything went smooth. 

The first hurdle was getting the right ingrediencies. It had been a nightmare to assemble them all. She had to write three different apothecaries, pay them a not insubstantial amount and then still sneak into the Forbidden Forrest. Twice. At night. In the rain.

After that Hermione finally made her way down into the dungeons. The potion master was sitting behind his desk, grading the essays of some probably unlucky students. She greeted him politely but quietly as to not disturb him. Snape did not acknowledge her presents in any way. For now, that was more than enough.

So, Hermione began brewing. If everything went according to plan, she would need three days. Because of that she started on a Friday and would not use the potions classroom. The weekend was planned through meticulously. It was not easy, but she pulled it off. Hermione had learned the hard way that just knowing the recipe and following it was not always enough in order to succeed in this subject. One needed either intuition or experience and in this case, Hermione lacked both. But she could borrow those from others. She had researched the Tears for weeks, read everything in library had to offer about them. She knew what could go wrong and where she would have to be extra careful. Had she not done that and simply follow the instructions, well … Let’s just say that her time researching was not at all wasted.

Hermione was almost disappointed. Sure, the preparations had been a lot of work and the brewing process itself had been demanding, but … Something was missing. This would not be enough to impress Snape. Maybe she had made a mistake? Was the potion even working? It had the right color, smell and everything, but she could not risk presenting a faulty potion to the professor.

Because of that she started researching ways to test the effectiveness and quality of a potion. That procedure was also performed in the laboratory. It came back positive. But the only real way to test a potion was drinking it. And there was no way Hermione would risk drinking a potentially toxic brew without precautions. Off she was to research and then brew a detoxification potion.

During all off that she still continued her regular studies and, of course, dueling club. Because of that the whole process was quite lengthy, a few months to be honest. Despite appearances Professor Snape did notice Hermione’s increased presents in his classroom. It would be hard to miss, since the opportunity to use the cauldrons was not taken advantage of by that many students and certainly not over such an extended period of time. He did not know what to make off it, but since the girl never bothered him and her understanding off the subject had clearly improved, he decided to let it slide. At least until her cauldron melted.

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing, Granger?” Snape snapped.

“Ähm … I was testing a theory, sir,” she replied hesitantly.

“I’m going to go ahead and assume, that your theory has been disproven,” he drawled and stood up.

“That is correct, sir,” she mumbled, clearly already deep in thought.

While the Professor was walking to her station, he was observing her ingrediencies and for the first time he could not make sense of a student’s project. It had stared all very simple. The girl had produced some Tears of Viviane. It should have been somewhat beyond her capabilities, but since the girl had a personal stake in this and she was nothing if not diligent in her preparations he decided to let it slide. If anything, he was surprised that she did not try to make this potion sooner. He would have, if he had been in her position, but Granger had never shown a passion for the subject anywhere near his own. At least until now.

So, Snape had observed her, and he had been pleasantly surprised when she had pulled it off with her first try. Maybe he should not have been. Even without a passion for potions it was clear, that the young witch was brilliant, not that he would ever say that out loud. Then she had spent a very long time testing her potions. Some would have considered it excessive, but Snape could appreciate being thorough. After all, in his area of studies any mistake could have fatal consequences. The little Ravenclaw could just have asked him and he would have said that she had made a perfectly adequate potion, but he understood her effort to test it herself. It’s what he would have done. But what was she trying to accomplish now? Dragonbone dust and moonlight-butterfly wings? Those ingrediencies made no sense whatsoever.

“What is this supposed to be?” Snape asked when he arrived at her station.

“Well, sir, you see, a couple of month ago I made a batch of Tears of Viviane, because, well … “she did not finish that sentence.

Snape had no interest in making her explain the circumstances of her parents’ deaths and decided to hurry this along.

“Yes, yes, and you have spent quite a bit off time testing the potion. It’s fine, by the way,” he drawled. “What I am more interested in is this nonsense. What were you trying to accomplish?”

“I was trying to design a potion, that would immediately neutralize the effect of the Tears, sir”, she answered.

“Why would you want such a potion,” Snape asked, genuinely baffled. Hermione squirmed a little bit.

“When the Tears wear off it gives me an energy boost, and I feel sharper,” she admitted. “When I can time it right it can boost my performance in certain activities. I was wondering if I could find a way to … attain this more reliably. Get some sort of advantage out of this stupid curse.”

She had only mumbled the last sentence. Snape was fairly certain that he was not supposed to have heard it. He was not sure what to make of this, but he was intrigued. Sure, such a potion would have a very limited area of application, but it was an interesting puzzle. It was also very dangerous, as one could see from the still smoldering cauldron.

“Well, 20 points from Ravenclaw for this reckless experiment,” Snape judged. He was already deep in thought and did not notice Hermione’s truly crestfallen expression. Not that he would have understood it. She could earn that many housepoints in a few hours by answering questions and the young witch did not care about the housecup anyway, but she thought that she had just failed her yearly goal. 

“Clean this up,” Snape continued. “Afterwards, come to me and show me which theories, models and equations you have based this on.”

“Yes, Sir!”

There was her opportunity! Hermione was ecstatic and her whole expression lit up. Snape did not notice that however, since he was already on the way back to his desk.

//

Present day

Mondays were great. Well, not all of them. But they all had the potential to be and this one most certainly was. Hermione already went for a run, showered and had breakfast. Most students were still lumbering through the school half asleep. Not Hermione. She was full of energy.

Today they finally had their first Defense against the Dark Arts lesson. Hermione was excited. What would Professor Moody teach them? Apparently, he had demonstrated the unforgivable curses and even cast them against the students. Well, the Imperius curse. If one was casting one of the unforgivable against students as part of the curriculum this was the one to use. What was there to learn from being tortured or, well, dead? Still, Hermione felt queasy about it. But learning what that particular curse felt like did seem like a good idea. There were many spells that could inflict pain or death. But totally controlling someone? There were ways, of course. Blood magic, runes or certain potions. But those were very difficult and needed a lot of preparation. The Imperius curse on the other hand was in comparison easy and needed no preparations whatsoever once someone had learned it. It was, in Hermione’s opinion, by far the most dangerous of the unforgivable Curses. Learning to defend against it seemed prudent.

Hermione was turning around a corner when she heard a familiar voice called out to her.

“Granger.”

Great. This Monday was already turning into a disappointment. She turned around, suppressing a sigh and fighting against a frown that threatened to take over her features.

“Lestrange. What can I do for you on this fine day?”

There was some steel in her voice. She was not going to be pushed around or intimidated. But Rodolphus Lestrange knew that. He had tried and failed to do so multiple times. He and his brother, sometimes in the company of some other Slytherin mouth-breathers, had quite a bit off fun at the expense of other students over the years. They had started fights with many students, Hermione among them. She was usually alone, and they were a group, but when faced with multiple opponents Hermione did not hold back. Oh, she had been hurt, even quite badly on some occasions. But she had always made sure, that the Slytherins could not consider themselves the victors, not by a long shot. Their last encounter towards the end of their fifth grade was particularly vicious. This time the Slytherins had not even tried to justify their actions in any way by starting an argument first and escalating from there. They had tried to ambush Hermione and without her amulet they would have succeeded.

When the first spell, a body binding curse, had be flung against her the amulet had warned Hermione and she had been able to doge it just in time. She had not asked questions or tried to talk her way out of the situation, she had retaliated immediately. Some of the Slytherins had been in the infirmary for an entire week. Hermione had used some very brutal and even some dark spells. For all she knew it had been a fight for her life. The Slytherins had not taken it well when she had defeated their dueling champion and they had made some serious threats before, so serious in fact that Hermione had asked her grandmother for advice. The former Auror had told her to strike first and ask questions later, should she be attack. Always assume the worst, then you will never be surprised. And constant vigilance!

Hermione could have been in real trouble, but her grandmother had assured her that they would find a way to smooth things over. The live and health of her granddaughter was too important to take chances with. But that had not even necessary. The Slytherins had not said a word. It was probably too embarrassing to have been beaten like that. They had the element of surprise plus a numbers advantage and they still had been beaten. Oh, Hermione was also not in great shape afterwards, but it was most definitely her win.

Hermione had been glad that Malfoy had not been among the attackers. He would certainly have run straight to his daddy, and that pompous ass would have made quite the fuss. But as far as Hermione could tell, Lestrange’s father had a very different relationship with his sons and a very different outlook on life in general. Having failed that specular despite all the advantages they had and against a woman on top of that … Lestrange senior would not have made Hermione’s life difficult but that of his sons. At least that was the picture Hermione had gotten through conversations with Bellatrix and some rumors she had headed in passing.

Apparently Lestrange had learned his lesson. He was approaching Hermione openly; his wand was not drawn, and he held his hands in a soothing gesture. Or a lest in what he thought was an appeasing gesture. And he was alone. He was approaching her slowly, not making any sudden movements. Well, this was new.

“I would like to have a short conversation with you,” Lestrange answered. “Please.” He added.

Well, that was certainly new. Up until Hermione had not had a conversation with the pureblood, that was not of a hostile nature. He was really trying here. But why? Hermione already had a suspicion and if it turned out to be correct, she would not be willing to placate him. But there was no reason to not hear him out. Maybe they could work something out. Unlikely, but one could dream. Despite her dueling capabilities Hermione did not enjoy making or having enemies. It took time, effort and energy to deal with them and she would much rather spend her time doing something useful, like studying or working on a knew potion.

“Alright, converse away. We still have a couple of minutes before Defense begins.”

“I want you to stay away from my fiancé.”

Straight to the point, no useless small talk. Hermione could work with that. Unfortunately, there was no way she was willing to grant that request. Well, unfortunate for Lestrange. But let’s take things slow. Also, suspicion confirmed.

“And why would I do that?” Hermione asked in a curious tone.

“Look, Granger, there is no denying that you a are highly capable witch,” Lestrange began. Hermione was intrigued. Not because of the flattery. That meant nothing to her coming from him. But that he was willing to try. “You could make it quite far in our world with your skills and knowledge, despite the … suboptimal parts of your heritage.”

Fucking purebloods. They just could not help themselves. Here he was, clearly quite desperate and he was trying very hard to get on her good side for once. But he just had to make a comment about her blood-status. Probably even thought he was being diplomatic and generous about it. All it did was make Hermione angry, but she made sure he would not notice.

“But if you want to be truly successful you are going to need the support of certain people,” Lestrange continued, not noticing that shift in Hermione’s mood.

“And I’m guessing you are one of these people,” Hermione threw in, when he was taking a breath.

“Of course, I am,” Lestrange bragged. “My family is one of the oldest and richest in Britain. And I would be willing to lend you my support, if you stay away from Bellatrix. But should you refuse me, remember that I can also use my considerable influence to make sure the best job you are going to get is scrubbing toilets an St. Mungos. Besides, you are wasting your time with her. I will be in charge of everything, she will simply be my wife. Anything you think you can get from her? You should really consider trying to get it from me!”

Fuck this.

“Ha, well, the civil tone as nice while it lasted,” Hermione sighed. “But at least we can stop pretending now. Do you know the theorem of Falkenstein? The methods of Heredes? The laws of thermodynamics? Any of that ringing a bell? No? Then you most definitely cannot give me what I want from her. Namely, interesting discussions about highly advanced magic, challenging debates, that sort of thing. And let’s get one thing straight right away. You have no power at all. Your daddy does. All you can do is wait patiently until he finally decides to give you some responsibility. And even if you were as powerful as you pretend to be, I am not concerned. Dumbledore has done quite well for himself, and he has never bowed down to the ridiculous whims and rules of you purebloods. Will I be as successful as he was? Don’t know, but I will take my chances before indulging a self-important little cretin like you. I mean, seriously? You are a slightly above average wizard a best. Without your family’s influence you would end up in some dead end, midlevel job in the ministry, if you’re lucky!”

Lestrange was speechless. For a few seconds he just stood there. Then his hand flew to his wand. Before he could even reach it, Hermione’s wand was pointed straight in his face. He froze.

“No no, keep going,” Hermione said in her sweetest voice. “Give me an excuse, I’m begging you!”

He raised his hands in surrender.

“Shame,” Hermione grumbled.

“She is mine!” Lestrange hissed aggressively, knowing Hermione would not attack while he was unarmed. “I’ll own her once we are married! Stay away from her with your unnatural desires!”

“Oh, My,” Hermione sighed. “There is quite a bit wrong with that statement, but since we are running out of time, let’s focus on one issue: You cannot own another human being! You should not be able to own another sentient being, but since the wizarding world seems ok with the casual enslavement of none-humans let’s at least arrive at a level of cultural and social maturity most muggles arrived at over 100 years ago and realize at least that! The wizarding world is really in desperate need of its own enlightenment. For all your talk about superiority some of you are still stuck in the Dark Ages.”

Then she turned around and continued her way to Moody’s classroom. She was concentrating on the magical energy around her. This way she would notice should he gather power for a spell. Would Lestrange dare attack her while her back was turned towards him?

He did not. Truly a shame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll try to update this story every couple of days, once a week at the very least.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the feedback!
> 
> Enjoy!

Chapter 4

Professor Moody did indeed teach them how to defend against the Imperius curse. Well, that was the generous interpretation of his lesson. It started with him saying:

“You guys should already know what the Unforgivable Curses are. I won’t waste time explaining them to you. Now I will teach you how to break the Imperius.”

Then he chose a student, cast the Imperius curse and make them do something mildly humiliating, nothing harmful. Most of the students were laughing. Hermione was not. She felt a little bit ill. The curse was taking away their free will and turning them into mindless puppets. It was horrible. Hermione firmly believed that this was worse than simply killing a person. She was determent to beat this curse. Would it be easier to fight the Imperius without the Tears in her System? Probably. From what Hermione had read it felt quite nice, being und the effects of the Imperius curse. Maybe the pain from her curse-scar would actually help her. She took a little vial with the purification drought she had developed together with Professor Snape out of her shoulder bag and waited for her turn.

While she was waiting, she was observing her fellow students. Most were still amused. Some, mostly but not exclusively Slytherins, were entirely too interested in the curse itself and not in how to beat it. Were they desiring that power? To have total control over another person. That thought made Hermione shiver. Hopefully she had imagined the hunger in their eyes.

After a while a couple of students seemed to arrive at the conclusion Hermione had, especially those who had already felt the effect of the curse. Only a few of them had been able to do anything against the curse. Some managed to stumble or stutter, depending on what Moody had them do, but nobody had been able to break his influence.

Bellatrix and, surprisingly, Lestrange had been the only ones who also had been discussed from the beginning. Bellatrix hated being told what to do, so that made perfect sense. But why did Lestrange look so unconfutable? He usually loved controlling others and flaunting his power. Interesting. Something was not quite right here, and Hermione was determent to find out what. Not now, but eventually. Puzzles are fun.

Hermione had been ripped out of her thoughts, when Moody called Bellatrix. The Slytherin come forward, her movements seemed forced. The Professor was making her skip through the classroom like little girl, but it was immediately clear that she was fighting him the entire time. Her arms and legs jerked around, and she even stopped moving twice. Eventually she managed to trip herself and fell on the floor. Some students, mostly Gryffindor, were laughing way to loud.

“What is so funny?” Moody snarled. “She almost managed to break herself out of it. Not one of you idiots managed that. 20 points to Slytherin.”

That shut them up. Lestrange was up next. He also did remarkably well, biting his own tongue while reciting some silly children song. He was revered with another 20 points for his house.

“It’s almost as if you pureblood Slytherins have some experience the unforgivables,” Moody muttered under his breath. Hermione had thought the same.

Shortly before it was Hermione’s turn, she quickly took her potion. The she took her place and prepared herself.

“Imperio,” Moody thundered.

It should have been the most wonderful feeling. Hermione felt like she was floating, all her thoughts and worries were wiped away gently. She felt happy and relaxed. Hermione knew immediately that something was wrong. She was always thinking about something. Not thinking? She did not like that at all. And she was also never this relaxed. The scar would not let her. Then she realized that she could still feel it, the burning in her back. It was unpleasant, but at least she could trust it. It was her permanent companion. She did not know exactly, what was going on, but the pain was real, she was certain of it. So, she embraced it. The pleasant sensation was washed away in an instant and Hermione became aware of her soundings again. She had barely lifted her hands. Moody had apparently wanted to make her do cartwheels.

“What …?” Moody huffed surprised. Hermione was putting her hands back down. “How did you do that?”

Hermione just shrugged.

“Imperio!” Moody hissed again. This time Hermione was able to break out of his control before he even gave his order. Moody was obviously shocked. He tried it one more time with the same result.

“What’s your name, girl?” Moody finally asked.

“Hermione Granger.”

“Granger, Granger,” He muttered. “I know that name. Why do I know that name? It’s a muggle name.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at his last sentence but said nothing. It was a neutral statement of fact, but something about the way he had said it did not feel right.

“My mother was Jean Granger nee Thorn,” she decided to supply. Recognition flashed through his marred face.

“Of course,” Moody growled. “Thorn’s grandchild. Terrible, what happened to your parents. But at least that explains it. That old dragon taught you some tricks, didn’t she?”

Hermione nodded. Technically it was not a lie. Magrath had taught her quite a lot of things. How to defend against the Imperio curse had not been among them, but he had not asked that, had he? And she really did not want to talk about her curse-scar in front of the class. Or with Mad-Eye for that matter. It was a sensitive subject. But for Moody it seemed to be enough. He dismissed her with a wave and call the next student.

The rest of the class was staring at Hermione with big eyes. Even Lestrange and Bellatrix did not manage school their expressions in time. Hermione sighed internally. They were going to ask her questions and for once she was not interested in answering them. When the lesson was over Hermione was the first to leave. At least she tried to. When she was at the door Moody shouted “Imperio!”.

The curse hit Hermione in the back. She had not expected that. The last times she had been mentally prepared. As it turned out it did not make a difference. She had been without Tears in her system for almost an hour now and the pain between her shoulders was quite intense by now. So, she was shocked out of the curse instantly.

“Very well done,” the Professor grinned. “50 points to Ravenclaw!”

Hermione gave him a nod she hopped would seem grateful and left his classroom. While she was on her way, looking for her emergency viol of Tears, she heard him bark out one more time:

“Constant vigilance!”

//

Hermione had managed to disappear before her classmates could catch up with her and ask her questions she did not want to answer. Because of the beautiful weather she had decided to not go into the library. Instead she had gotten herself something to eat, the books she had been planning to read today and left the castle. She feared that this would be one of the last summer days and she was planning to enjoy it. There was a picturesque and secluded little spot Hermione knew of. Once she had reached it, she enjoyed her lunch, made herself comfortable and began to study.

The Ravenclaw was making good progress when she heard someone else approach. The angry steps and annoyed huffs told her immediately who had found her. Well, and the fact that, as far as Hermione knew, there was only one other person who had been here before.

“How did you do it?” Bellatrix practically screamed. Hermione did not look up from her book.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific that hat, dear,” Hermione mused. “I have done a lot of things that would require an explanation in order to understand. I mean, sure, I have a suspicion what you are talking about, but since you decided to only use pronouns, I can’t be sure now, can I? Maybe I am wrong, and you are talking about something else entirely. So, when I start explaining and you tell me that is not what you meant then you will have made a fool out of both of us and neither one of us wants that. Just ask the question properly.”

“Stop trying to be cute!” Now Bellatrix did actually scream and ripped Hermione’s book out of her hands. Hermione gave her an exasperated look but internally she was having a great time teasing the Slytherin. “You know exactly what I am talking about! How did you break free of the imperius curse so effortlessly? What secret technics did your grandmother teach you?”

“None,” Hermione answered honestly. “At least none that have anything to do with the unforgivables. And before today I have never felt the imperius.”

“Thestralshit! Nobody breaks free of it on their first attempt! Don’t lie to me!”

Bellatrix was practically screeching right now, and Hermione could see some tears in her eyes. Suddenly Hermione realized that Bellatrix was not just interested in learning something new. She was desperate. Hermione had never seen her like this before. It was time to stop messing around. Hermione sat up and made sure Bellatrix knew she had her undivided attention and she was being serious now, but before she could say anything Bellatrix continued.

“Please, just tell me how you did it. I have to know!”

It came out as a whisper and Hermione felt ill. Bellatrix was begging. Bellatrix would never, ever beg. This was serious. Hermione knew that she would have to move carefully. This had the potential to go bad very fast and she had already fucked up quite a bit with her overly cute little pronoun speech. It did seem funnier at the time!

“Okay, Bellatrix, I’ll tell you,” Hermione said in her most soothing voice. Bellatrix was calming down a bit. A tiny bit. “I broke free by concentrating on my curse-scar.”

“What? I mean …? What curse-scar? And how did it help you and how did …?” Bellatrix was utterly lost. “What are you talking about?”

“Yeah, we’ve not talked about it before, have we?” Hermione sighed. “Well, no time like the present. Let’s start from the beginning. Please, sit. This will take ab bit.”

Bellatrix actually seat down, but her movements were sluggish. Hermione still took it as a step in the right direction.

“I have a curse-scar on my back,” Hermione began. “Starts between my shoulder blades and goes up to the nape of my neck. I have had it ever since I have been a baby.”

She needed a second to compose herself. Hermione had never talked about this with anyone outside of her family. Bellatrix was still confused and apparently afraid that Hermione would stop talking.

“How did you get it?” the Slytherin asked. “And how does it help you breaking the imperius curse?”

Bellatrix was clearly not thinking straight, otherwise she would have already figured out the answer to her first question. Hermione braced herself.

“Well, I got it the night my parents were murdered.”

Bellatrix went pale.

“Oh Merlin, Hermione, I am so sorry, please, I shouldn’t … , “she tried but Hermione cut her off.

“It’s ok, Bellatrix, I would not have started the story if I was not willing to share it. Just give me a second.”

Bellatrix nodded and avoided looking at Hermione. The Ravenclaw took a deep breath and continued.

“When they came for us my mother picked me up while my father was trying to hold them off,” Hermione explained. “At least that is what the Aurors determined afterwards. After they were … done … with my father ….” She had to clear her throat. This was way more difficult than she had thought. “They had placed a temporary anti-apparition ward around our house. So, we could not escape. My mother tried to run with me in her arms, but … they caught up with us. The curse that killed her went ….”

Oh god, this hurt. Hermione was not sure if she could continue. A few tears were running down her face and she was trying very hard not to start weeping. Suddenly a small hand snook around her own and gripped her very tightly. Bellatrix was still not looking at her, but this was enough to give her the strength to continue.

“The curse that killed my mother also hit me,” Hermione continued, her voice now even again. “I don’t know what spell was used; despite numerous attempts we were never able to find out. All we know is that it was very dark magic and that it was not the killing curse. That one does not go through multiple living targets. Whatever, that does not matter for now. Since that night I have that curse-scar. It always hurt. I have to take a potion, the Tears of Viviane, in order to suppress the curse and ease the pain, but even with that potion the pain never goes away entirely. It is lessened, only a dull arche, but it still lingers.”

Hermione went silent for a second. She needed to collect her thoughts. Bellatrix swallowed audibly.

“I am truly very sorry Hermione. Not for asking about it,” She added when she saw that Hermione was going to remind her that it was alright. “But that you had to go through this. And that you are still going through it. If there is anything, I can do to help you, do not hesitate to tell me.”

Hermione smiled sadly.

“I appreciate the offer, Bellatrix. But some of the best curse-breakers were not able to lift it. The curse sits too deep within me. Even if they were to figure out what dark magic was used, they could most likely not do anything, breaking the curse would kill me. It’s just something I have to live with.”

They sat there in silence for a couple of minutes.

“Anyway, to answer your original question,” Hermione began again. “How did I break Moody’s Imperius? You know that amazing feeling, that the curse wants you to feel?” Bellatrix nodded. Of course, she did. She hated that feeling. It was so utterly wrong.” Well, it never felt that good to me to begin with. There was always some pain. That was enough to give me an initial shock, so I knew something was wrong. Then all I had to do in order to break the curse was to concentrate on the pain. It washed the Imperius away. The last one he threw after me when I was leaving the classroom? It did not even register. By then the curse-scar was burning so much that the Imperius practically bounced off me.”

“You are in that much pain?” Bellatrix asked horrified.

“No, not all that time,” Hermione instantly tried to appease the Slytherin. “Not if I take the Tears. As long as I take them the pain is manageable. But a few years ago, I developed a potion that immediately neutralizes all traces of the Tears in my system. I had taken that potion shortly before it was my turn.”

“Why would you create such a potion?” Bellatrix asked. She could not understand it. This seemed incredibly stupid.

“Well,” Hermione muttered sheepishly. “I noticed that I duel better without the Tears running through my veins. I’m sharper and have more energy. Maybe it is some survival mechanism, I don’t actually know. And since I knew how the Imperius works I thought, you know, maybe there is finally some other upside to my curse-scar. It was worth a try and, as it turned out, it worked even better than I would have hoped for.”

Hermione and Bellatrix said there in silence for a while after the Ravenclaw had finished with her explanation. They had both calmed down but did not let go of each other’s hands. Bellatrix was the first to speak again.

“So technically you did not break the Imperius. Your curse-scar did all the work.”

Hermione could hear a smile in the Slytherin’s voice and had to laugh. It probably was not even very funny, but after such an emotionally draining conversation she was thankful for the attempt to lighten the mood.

“Sure, if you want to be pedantic about it,” Hermione agreed. “Not that it truly matters. I reached the desired designation. I was no longer under his control. Why does it matter how I arrived there?”

Bellatrix smiled, but it was a sad one.

“I matters, because I had hoped, that I could …, “she did not finish that sentence. Hermione had an idea what the Slytherin was talking about and she suddenly realized that they were at the verge of something. She wasn’t quite sure what, but she knew, that if she could play her cards right, they could make some real progress. With what? Their relationship? Bellatrix’s worldview? Something else entirely? Hermione was determent to find out, but she would have to be careful how to precede. One wrong word and Bellatrix would shut down again. Pressuring her now would be counterproductive. So, Hermione decided on a different approach.

“Hey, Bellatrix, can I ask you a question?” She began. Bellatrix froze for a second. Hermione could tell that the other witch was getting uncomfortable. “You don’t have to answer it, if you don’t want to. That’s absolutely okay. I will drop it and not bring it up again. But I’ve been wondering for a while now … Are we friends?”

//

Bellatrix was perplexed. This was not the question she had expected, dreaded even. Still, she did not know what to say. It was so absurd. Are we friends? That’s a question children ask one another. Hermione Granger was many things, but childlike was not among them. Neither was she socially aquert. Oh sure, she preferred the company of books over most humans, but she was perfectly capable of being among their peers without getting shy or uncomfortable. The Ravenclaw could also read interactions between humans both those that she herself was involved in and those that she was not. She understood relationships like friendship, Bellatrix was certain of it. So, why would she ask that question. Fortunately, Hermione noticed the confusion of the Slytherin and seemed to realize that she had asked her question in a somewhat strange way.

“I’m asking, because we spend a lot of time together, at least by my standards,” Hermione elaborated. “And our relations ship was not always … pleasant. We have been rivals from the beginning of our time at Hogwarts, since our first transfiguration lesson with Professor McGonagall. It was quite the hostile rivalry for a while. You used to play stupid pranks, some of them were quite dangerous and harmful. I would retaliate, of course. You also really liked to insult my blood, if I remember correctly.”

Bellatrix winced at that. It was true. Her aunt had molded her into a die-hard pureblood fanatic. It had taken her quite a while to break out of that programming and she was still struggling with it sometimes. Last year she had caught Andromeda holding hands with a mudb- muggle-born and her rection had not been kind. At all.

“I’m not taking a trip down memory lane with you in order to make you feel bad,” Hermione continued, having noticed Bellatrix’s discomfort. “I just want to make sure you know where I am coming from. But, as time went on and we grew up, something changed. You stopped insulting me every chance you got, and your pranks became more and more harmless until they ceased all together. Which I was really glad about. Or feud was taking up way too much of our time and I also had to take care of the other Slytherins, jealous Claws and eventually, of course, the Weasleys. So, there we were. Still rivals, of course, there was and still is nobody else at this school who could challenge us like we do each other. But our competition was about productive things, like skill and knowledge. Then we started engaging each other in witty arguments and I dare say that we became friendly over that last year and a half.”

Bellatrix nodded. Hermione’s summery of their time at Hogwarts, their relationship and how it had evolved over time was startingly accurate. They had become really friendly, especially during their sixth year. Suddenly Bellatrix had to wonder herself. Were they friends? Sure, she liked the Ravenclaws company and their conversations, but she had not really considered them friends. After all, Hermione was a Ravenclaw and a half-blood, they could not Stop Bellatrix! She was doing it again, falling into her old ways of thinking. They had brought her nothing of value, why was she always doing this? Besides, there was not one of the Slytherin purebloods she would consider a true friend. Oh yes, she was the queen of Slytherin, there were dozens of bootlickers hanging on her every word, ready to do whatever she wanted. She was a Black after all. But Bellatrix would never consider them friends. They had no spines and the second she would show any weakness they would devour her.

“I don’t have many friends,” Hermione explained.” I am friendly with lot of people, but a real friend? I think I have … one. Well, two, if we are friends. And I have not even told her about my curse-scar or how I got it, but I am fairly sure she knows anyways. So, I wasn’t sure, and when I am not sure of something, I ask questions, that’s why …”

“Yes,” Bellatrix interrupted Hermione’s ramblings. “We are friends.”

Hermione’s happy smile unleashed a warmth spreading through Bellatrix’s entire body and she had not choices but to smile back. They were just sitting there in the warm afternoon, enjoying the silence and each other’s presence.

“That is good,” Hermione finally said, sounding genuinely pleased. “Because I have been worried about you and I did not know if it was appropriate.”

“What,” Bellatrix exclaimed. “Why would you be worried about me?”

“Well,” Hermione sighed hesitantly. “You seem … unhappy since school started. Almost like you don’t want to be here. That is so unlike you. Despite all your moaning about Hogwarts, its teachers and its ever-dropping standards you love being here.”

Hermione did not voice the obvious question. What is wrong? Bellatrix was incredibly grateful for that. And deeply impressed. The Ravenclaw had masterfully manipulated her into this position. After this conversation, their shared connection and Hermione’s story about the death of her parents’ Bellatrix could hardly tell her to shove off. Had Hermione planed their entire encounter from the beginning up until now? Surely not. The bookworm had been in hiding and had been extremely reluctant to talk at first. She had almost made Bellatrix run off with her teasing. But she defiantly seen an opportunity somewhere during their conversation and seized it mercilessly. The worst part was that even now Bellatrix was not sure she had been manipulated. It did not feel like she had been. All of it had felt so real. Maybe she was being paranoid? Growing up between snakes could do that to a person and Hermione was not deceiving, not in general at least. But if she had a goal in mind? Then all bets were off.

But it did not matter, did it? Sure, the Ravenclaw wanted to learn something new about Bellatrix and opening her up would be an enticing puzzle to her. But that was not important, because Bellatrix knew that Hermione truly cared about her. So, did it really matter if she had been played? Bellatrix found that she wanted to tell the other witch what had been bothering her. So, she would. But not yet she was not ready.

“Has it been that obvious?” Bellatrix asked, trying to buy time.

“No, not at all,” Hermione replied truthfully. “I do not think anyone but me and your sisters noticed.” And probably Luna, but Hermione decided not to mention that. It could destroy the fragile situation.

“Have they asked you to keep an eye on me?” Bellatrix asked, suspecting the worst. Betrayed by her own flesh and blood!

“They have not asked me to do anything,” Hermione responded, chuckling. “Andy mentioned something about your behavior in passing, but it’s not as if I hadn’t already noticed.”

Bellatrix huffed annoyed. No outright betrayal, but still ….

“They worry about you,” Hermione’s voice was soothing. “Both off them do, even though Narcissa is very good at hiding it. You don’t have to talk about it with me. Talk with your sisters, if you are more comfortable talking with them about this. Just know that I worry about you, too. If you want to talk, I am here for you and if you need my help you will get it, no questions asked.”

“Well, some questions asked,” the Ravenclaw amended, realizing that she had just given Bellatrix a blank cheque. “But my point still stands, I will do what I can.”

“Thank you,” Bellatrix mumbled, uncomfortable, but for entirely pleasant reasons. “I appreciate that.”

They settled into a comfortable silence again. Hermione did not pressure Bellatrix, but it was clear that she was still expecting an explanation. Bellatrix was not sure how to approach the subject. She did not want to show to much of herself, but she also wanted Hermione to understand.

“What do you want do after graduation?” Bellatrix finally asked. If Hermione was thrown off by this apparent change of subject, she hid it well.

“I’m not sure yet,” the Ravenclaw answered. “A lot of people are expecting me to follow in my grandmother’s footsteps and become an Auror. Probably because of my dueling. But I don’t think I will do that.”

Bellatrix’s head whipped around. She had been absolutely certain that the Ravenclaw would want to be an Auror. It seemed like such an obvious fit. Hermione continued talking without acknowledging the confusion on the other witch’s face.

“I am currently debating between starting at the Department of Mystery or becoming a curse-breaker. Gringotts has a very prestigious training program and I have actually received an invitation. I’m not sure which one I will pick, though. Or maybe I will continue my education, pursue a mastery. We’ll see.”

Bellatrix nodded. Hermione would do well in both fields and she certainly had what it would take in order to achieve the notoriously difficult to achieve title of master, or mistress in her case, in her chosen field. After all, the Ravenclaw loved learning and researching, but with a practical application.

“It must be nice to have options,” Bellatrix muttered so quietly she was not sure Hermione had heard., but the other witch hummed understanding.

“You know, I never understood the mindset of the female purebloods,” Hermione confessed. “I get the men. They have the power, the wealth, they can do whatever they want. But the women …? Sure, they live glamours lives in big mansions, but what are they doing all day long? Organize balls, gossip and have children? There has to be more to it.”

“There are also intrigues and basking in one’s superiority,” Bellatrix added.

“Fair enough, but …,” Hermione did not even know where to begin. “Well, they are always subservient to their husbands, aren’t they? If they were equals, fair enough, but they are not emancipated. In every other part of wizarding society men and women are equal, but not here. I do not understand why they accept that.”

For once Bellatrix had no explanation when it came to the pureblood culture. She did not know why they accepted that either.

“So, you figured it out,” the Slytherin stated.

“Not entirely no,” Hermione confessed.” I get that you are unhappy with the fact that you are going to marry Lestrange after graduation. I understand that you resent the live that will await you after we are done with school. You don’t want to have his children, sit in a mansion all day long and have boring conversations other pureblood wifes. Of course, you don’t, it would be a waste of your talents and your intellect. It would be hell for you.”

“So, you do understand,” Bellatrix exclaimed, interrupting Hermione. “I don’t want to marry him! And I most certainly don’t want to be married to him!”

“Yeah, I know, but why are you going to marry him then?” Hermione asked. “I don’t see the problem! The Wizengamot passed legislation ages ago which made sure that engagement contracts made between the parents or legal guardians of minors are not enforceable. Just call off the wedding.”

Bellatrix looked at her as if she had suggested to change the color of the sky.

“What?” Hermione asked, slightly annoyed. “Dumbledore pushed that through almost 25 years ago. I have no idea why the wizarding world is so slow when I comes to these things, but hey, better late than never!”

Hermione noticed Bellatrix’s baffled expression.

“Don’t tell me that this is news to you!” Hermione exclaimed.

Bellatrix swallowed hard. It was.

Well, fuck.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 5  
The sun had reached its highest point quite some time ago and the shadows began to grow longer. History of Magic would soon be over. Hermione had no problem skipping that particular subject. Not because of the subject itself, history could be incredibly interesting, and you could learn quite a bit about the present by studying the past. Unfortunately, a special kind of teacher was needed in order to truly make the history come alive and Professor Binns was most defiantly not such a person. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he himself was not alive, but from what Hermione had heard his lessons had always been mind-numbingly boring. She had actually decided not to visit one of his lessons ever again and study the subject by herself and she had spelled her notebook so that all her assignments would automatically be added to it. Because of that she had no problem sitting here with Bellatrix. But she could not miss the next class. Professor Flitwick would be heartbroken. On the other hand, she really wanted to finish this conversation with Bellatrix properly. Was she willing to risk being late to charms for that? Yes. What use was there in being known as a teacher’s pet if one could not leverage that when need be? And she wasn’t one, for that matter. Hermione was just polite, studious and enjoyed answering difficult questions.

Bellatrix still sitting next to her and still contemplating the new information. Hermione let her be, even though she really wanted to know how the Slytherin could not know about the law.

“That changes nothing,” Bellatrix finally decided, sounding incredibly tired.

“Yeah, you’re gonna have to explain that one to me,” Hermione said with a raised eyebrow. “Because from where I’m sitting that means you’re only going to marry Lestrange if you want to.”

“Well, where to begin?” Bellatrix sighed. “First of all, what would I do? I would never get a job anywhere if I piss of the Lestranges.”

“You purebloods really overestimate your own importance and power,” Hermione interrupted. “Quite a few of them are still on very shaky ground after the war and the Lestranges certainly are among them. Only you Blacks came out of it worse off than them. Do you really think the Lestranges would use their limited capabilities making your life difficult? Rodolphus might but as I told him this morning, his opinion does not matter. Lestrange Sr. is far to calculating to waste his resources on you and even if he did, what is he going to do? Make sure you don’t get a job with one off his businesses? Oh, no! How will you ever manage?”

“It’s not just him,” Bellatrix huffed. “All of the sacred 28 would shun me. And you are definitely underestimating their desire to make an example out of me!”

“Maybe,” Hermione admitted. “I know not that much about the pureblood culture or mindset. But let us assume you are right; they really try to fuck you over and they are as powerful as you think. Just for arguments sake, because they are really not! You will not be part of their little club anymore. Is that really that terrible? You can’t stand most of them anyway, especially the girls, and we both know you would be forced to interact with the girls. Maybe you would not get your dream job. What is your dream job by the way, I never asked? Getting a position at the ministry would be difficult and even if you get one, they would certainly slow down your career. But there are places you can work at where the purebloods have no influence, even if they had control of all private businesses, which again, they absolutely do not. You could work at Gringotts! I would really love to see those purebloods trying to put pressure on the goblins! And even if you don’t get a job in all of Magical Britain, leave Britain! You will be able to find employment anywhere with your grades! Somewhere in Europe, America or wherever you want. The sacred 28 are not known for their international connections.”

Bellatrix remained silent. Hermione was making some good points. Bellatrix already had quite a few job-offers. Had her pureblood upbringing kept her from seeing the whole picture once again? Hermione in the meantime was in full swing and showed no sign of slowing down.

“Also, you do realize that not all of the 28 are pureblood supremacists, right? I mean, granted, quite a few are, and even more are at least sympathetic to their cause, but not all of them would go after you. I’m willing to bet most would not. The Shacklebolts and the Prewetts certainly won’t. Besides, just look at Dumbledore. He has been pissing on their shoes for the better part of the last century and they can do nothing about it. He has been pushing progressive legislation for decades now and all they manage to do is slow him down. The time of the purebloods is coming to an end, and you know what? Most of them are aware of it. Why do you think You-know-who was so successful convincing them to join him? While they were busy fucking their close relatives, the world has moved on. Soon their gene pool will so small they will die out. You really don’t have to fear the Lestranges all that much, at least as long as you don’t run into them in a dark alley and even then, you can make it out. Believe me, I know what I am talking about!”

Hermione stopped. She had been ranting for quite a while now. That had never happened to her before. But the whole pureblood ideology was so incredibly stupid. Nevertheless, she should have kept her cool and address Bellatrix’s concerns one at a time. The Ravenclaw took a deep breath. Luckily, Bellatrix did not seem to mind her ramblings. The Slytherin actually looked deep in thought.

“Maybe you are right,” Bellatrix finally admitted. “But I have to do it for my family.”

“What part of your family?” Hermione shot back. “Your parents? I don’t think their opinion matters. Same goes for your cousins. Your uncle is dead and your aunt? I would not try to please her if I were you, because I suspect it is impossible.”

“No, for my sister,” Bellatrix mumbled.” This is not just about me. If I don’t marry Lestrange they will never …”

“… get a good pureblood husband?” Hermione interrupted. “You mean they won’t have to do what you yourself really don’t want to do? Let’s face it, Andy will be perfectly fine with that. Even if you marry Lestrange, do you honestly think she will go through with her arranged marriage? I doubt it. And Narcissa? Do you think she will be sad loosing Malfoy?” Hermione hesitated for a second. “Alright, I will give you that one. No idea what blondie wants. I cannot read that girl. Maybe she really wants to marry the git or maybe she hates him with a passion, could not tell you if my life depended on it.”

Bellatrix chuckled despite herself. Narcissa was hard to read, even for her sisters. What was going on? Hermione was making sense and Bellatrix could say nothing to weaken her arguments. The Ravenclaw was a bit on edge right now. Had she given to much away about Andy?

“If I run away my aunt will make my sisters suffer,” Bellatrix revealed. “And if I try and reason with her, she will Imperius me to marry Lestrange.”

Hermione was happy. There it was. Bellatrix’s reason to go through which this farce and ruin her life because of it. She had finally found it. And there was something they could do about it, too!

“Then why don’t you Imperius her first?”

Bellatrix gawped at her; mouth wide open.

“What?!?”

“I’m being serious,” Hermione affirmed. “I mean, an unforgivable would not be my first choice, there are other ways to neutralize your aunt and they do not carry a life sentence in Azkaban with them. But why not?”

“She is my aunt!” Bellatrix exclaimed.

“And she would do the same to you, so what is the problem here? She does not deserve your concern. Are you afraid you can’t take her?”

“I could defiantly take her!” Bellatrix proclaimed.

“So why don’t you? Isn’t your own happiness more important that some stupid family pride and a baseless ideology? I mean, if you truly think it is too dangerous to break out of this … pureblood nonsense, for either you or your sisters, then don’t. I understand that you want to keep them safe no matter what. But you can achieve that without shackling yourself to Lestrange. You would waste away as his wife. Just think about it, ok?”

Bellatrix looked out over the lake. Then she took a deep breath and nodded.

“Great! Now let’s head back. I don’t want to be late to charms!”

Bellatrix chuckled. How very Hermione. They got up and back to the castle. They were quiet, both thinking their own thoughts.

“Bellatrix?” Hermione asked hesitantly after a while.” Can I ask you another question? It’s a personal one.”

Bellatrix sighed. “At this point, sure, why not.”

“What you said about your aunt,” Hermione began.” That she would Imperius you to marry Lestrange? That was not why you were so desperate to learn how to break out of the curse, was it?”

Bellatrix was silent for a long time. Hermione feared that she had gone too far. But Bellatrix was still walking next to her, not chasing her away. Maybe she just would not answer that question. That would be ok. As long as she hadn’t done any permanent damage to their relationship. Had she done that? Hermione was freaking out a little bit. She was about to apologize and retract her question. When they were almost back at the castle Bellatrix finally answered.

“No,” she admitted.” It was because of what might happen after we are married.”

//

Charms class started late because Professor Flitwick was late. That was very atypical for the head of house Ravenclaw, but Hermione did not mind, because this way they arrived before the Professor. Bellatrix could not care less. She did not pay attention at all during the entire lesson. What should she do? She could not possibly break the engagement, could she? It was against everything she had been taught. And what in Salazar’s name had possessed Hermione? She knew the Ravenclaw had a low opinion of the pureblood culture, but Bellatrix would have never expected the other witch to blow up like that. Bellatrix was so lost in her own thoughts the lesson was over and she was in her private prefect room without knowing how she had gotten there.

Bellatrix was ripped out off her musings when somebody tried to break down her door. At least that was what it sounded like.

“Bella! I know you are in there! Open up!”

“Merlin, Andy!” Bellatrix exclaimed after letting her sister in the room. “Are you trying to get hexed? Don’t surprise me like that!”

“Don’t you start with this nonsense,” the younger witch deflected. “What happened? First you leave the school looking like you are about to murder someone, and when you come back, with Hermione I might add, you are behaving like an inferius. What did she do? Do I have to hunter her down?”

Bellatrix laughed. Andy was only half joking. She would go after the Ravenclaw without hesitation if she truly had done something to harm Bellatrix. The younger Slytherin disliked their extended family, but she was fiercely loyal to her sisters.

“No, no,” Bellatrix assured her. “She didn’t harm me in any way. We just talked about some things and … she gave me a lot to think about, that’s all.”

“Really,” Andy asked, still suspicious. “Do tell, what did you two talk about?”

“A few things,” Bellatrix knew that would not be enough, so she cast a quick silencing spell. She did not want anyone apart from her sister to hear this. Andy said nothing. Bellatrix did this sometimes. You can never be to sure if you are sounded by snakes.

“But one of the main subjects was my upcoming wedding to Rodolphus,” Bellatrix finally continued.

“Oh? And what had our favorite Claw to say about that?”

“A lot, actually,” Bellatrix admitted. “But her primary point was that I don’t have to marry him if I don’t want to.”

Andy took a second to process this information. Since Bellatrix was not ranting about the “stupid, uneducated half-blood” Hermione might actually have gotten through to her.

“She is right, you know?” Andy confirmed carefully.” Nobody can force you. It is your decision.”

“Yeah, so I have been told,” Bellatrix hummed.” It’s just … There are so many reasons … Look, first of all, if I don’t go through with it no other pureblood will be willing to marry me either!”

“And that would be so bad, because …?” Andy inquired.

“Wha … “Bellatrix was perplexed. Again.

“Do you really think you Lestrange is the problem?” Andy inquired. “He is particularly bad, but do you honestly think you would be fine with marrying someone else? Because I do not think you were made for settling down and having children, even with your ideal partner.”

“You might be right,” Bellatrix had to concede. “But I am still young. I don’t want to have children now and I certainly don’t want his children, but what if I change my mind in ten years? Then there will be nobody … who would meet my standards.”

“You mean a pureblood, one of the sacred 28”, Andy made sure. “Are you really still on about that? I thought you would have moved past that.”

“I have!” Bellatrix hissed.” I’m not looking down on the half-bloods anymore and I even tolerate the muggle-borne now. But that does not mean I am willing to delude our bloodline! The magic is strong within the Blacks, I cannot allow it to fade away!”

“Dear sister,” Andy sighed. “It does not sound like you have moved past it at all! And despite what you just said, you still look down on the half-bloods and “tolerating” the muggle-borne is … not the optimal way to feel about them. You still think we are superior simply because of our blood.”

“Because we are!” Bellatrix was losing her patience. Of course, they were. Their magic was simply stronger. Even Andy would have to admit that.

“Who is the greatest wizard of our time?” Andy suddenly asked.

“What?”

“Who is the greatest wizard of our time?” Andy repeated. Bellatrix did not like where this was going, but she answered.

“I mean … Probably Dumbledore.”  
“Hmm, he’s a half-blood,” Andy hummed. “Who is the greatest witch off our time?”

“That’s not as easy to answer!” Bellatrix exclaimed. “There are a few, who could …”

“Bella!”

“… Professor McGonagall, I guess,” Bellatrix admitted quietly. “But again, it is not nearly as clear …”

“Also, a half-blood. Who is the brightest witch of our age?”

“I am!” Bellatrix said with confidence and without hesitation.

“Bella!”

“What? I am!”

“Bellatrix!”

“… It could also be Granger.”

“You see the point I’m making?” Andy asked very smugly.

“Alright, alright, I get it!” Bellatrix exclaimed. “But they are not representative of all half-bloods! They’re far above the average half-blood!”

“And you are far above the average pureblood,” Andy immediately retorted. “I mean, have you met Crabbe and Goyle? They have some of the purest blood there is and the magical talent of a field mouse. And the intellect of one, too!”

Bellatrix huffed, but she could not find an argument against that.

“Look, there are some witches and wizards that are extremely talented, some that are extremely untalented, and most are just average,” Andy explain patiently, almost as if she was talking to a child. Bellatrix did not appreciate that but said nothing. “But that has very little to do with their blood status. It is true, purebloods and wealthy half-bloods tend to excel more than muggle-borne, but that is because the muggle-borne are thrown into a world they know nothing about and we are being encouraged and fostered outside of Hogwarts, too. We simply have way more opportunities and are therefore more successful. That shows in all aspects of live, but especially when it comes to magic. Besides, what has the insistence on purity done for our family? Our parents are in Azkaban, one of our cousins is on the run, the other one is missing, most likely dead. Our uncle is also dead and Walburga hides in Grimmauld Place all the time, tormenting Kreacher. She is quite clearly insane. There is almost nothing left of the Blacks.”

Bellatrix said nothing. She had to think. Damn it, first Hermione, now her sister. Was this some conspiracy?

“You have thought about this quite a bit,” Bellatrix stated, trying to distract Andy. It did not work.

“I have,” she simply confirmed.” Why else are you hesitating to call it of?”

Bellatrix sighed. Her concerns about not finding a job had already been addressed by Hermione and even though she was not sure if the Ravenclaw was correct it would do no good bringing it up with Andy, since her sister would likely agree with Hermione’s assessment.

“You and Cissy will suffer,” Bellatrix finally said.” And I can never let that happen.”

“Oh,” Andy was not sure how to respond, but she most certainly would try.” Ok, yes, aunt Walburga would burn you off the tapestry and try to make sure we would not follow you. But seriously? Fuck her. She is only head of the Blacks because everyone else is dead, in Azkaban or a fugitive. We can find another place to stay. And sure, it would be tough, here at Hogwarts surrounded by the other Slytherins, but we would manage. I am going to tell you a secret, but you have to promise not to say a word, ok?”

Realizing that her sister really wanted her to promise Bellatrix hastily did. She would never betray her siblings.

“You already know that I have no intention of going through with my arranged marriage,” Andy stated. Bellatrix had, in fact, not known that. She had feared that and hoped that Andy was just experimenting with the muggle-borne. Now she was not sure how to feel about it. But she nodded anyway.” And about Cissy? Let’s just say she would not be too devastated should the Malfoys call her wedding off, either.”

“Are you sure?” Bellatrix was surprised.

“Yeah, I’m sure, she told me so herself. Malfoy is not as bad as Lestrange, but Cissy is as bright and driven as you are, though she does not show it that much. Do you honestly think she would be happy or even just content being Malfoy’s little wifey?”

Bellatrix hummed.

“I am not going to lie to you and tell you that it will be easy,” Andy told her.” And either way I don’t think you should make your decision right away. You have the entire year to figure out what’s best and plan accordingly. But you should keep your own happiness in mind. We are you sisters and we love you. We don’t want you to suffer for us, no matter which comforts it might cost us.”

Bellatrix hugged her sister tightly and hopped that she had not seen the tears gathering in her eyes. She loved her sisters so very much.

//

Hermione and Bellatrix started to spend time together far more often. Instead of some conversations whenever they would run into each other, mostly during or after dueling club, they spoke almost daily. When autumn was turning grey, they started going to the library or one of the many study rooms together. They did not talk about Bellatrix’s future or Hermione’s parents again; their discussions were mostly of an academic nature.

Hermione started plotting the murder of Rodolphus Lestrange. Just to calm down, she was not really going to do it. But she could. It would be so easy. They would never catch her. Hermione had not forgotten Bellatrix’s fear and Hermione had sworn to herself that she would not let Lestrange hurt her. But something made no sense. The look in Lestrange’s eyes when Moody had used the Imperius on them had been filled with disgust and fear. Yet he would force Bellatrix to go through this? Was he capable of that? Maybe. People are capable of doing horrible things those they consider to be beneath them. Wait, she never actually said Lestrange would be the one to curse her.

“You never answered my question,” Hermione suddenly remembered. Bellatrix was looking up from her charms essay. “What it your dream job?”

“When did you aske me that?” Bellatrix could not remember being asked that question.

“You don’t remember? Yeah, that’s fair enough,” Hermione admitted. “It was hidden somewhere inside my big rant about purebloods and their overestimated power.”

“Really? Must have flown right past me.”

“Yeah, I had forgotten, too. But I’m asking now.”

Bellatrix did not answer immediately.

“It’s stupid,” she finally muttered. Hermione narrowed her eyes.

“Stupid because it’s embarrassing, or …”

“Stupid because it is impossible,” Bellatrix finished the sentence.

“I find that hard to believe.” With good reason. Bellatrix’s grades were second only to Hermione’s.

“I always wanted to be an Auror,” Bellatrix said very fast.

“Oh.” That was Hermione’s only rection. For once she was speechless.

“Yeah,” Bellatrix sighed “But they would never let me join, despite my grades, talents and skills. My parents were death eaters, so was my uncle and both my cousins. The only “good” Black is now synonymous with betrayal. And on top of that he was the only Black working as an Auror in …, shit, three generations? Maybe more.”

“I’ve got nothing, for once,” Hermione had to admit. “Your chances of becoming an Auror are indeed looking quite bleak. Still, I could see it. You have the right personality.”

Bellatrix chuckled darkly.

“I guess. I always liked the idea off catching and punishing evil wizard. Though my understanding of what an evil wizard is has somewhat shifted as I grew up.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Hermione guessed.

“Definitely.”

After a moment Bellatrix went back to writing her essay.

//

Dear Hermione,  
It is good always good to hear from you. You had a strong start into the schoolyear, and I expect you to keep it up. Do not underestimate the N. E. W. T.s! But I am confident in your abilities. I truly believe you might be able to break Albus’s record. Minerva certainly must be worried.

As for your questions, I do not want to push you into doing something you are not comfortable with, but I would be remiss not to tell you that the Triwizard Tournament is a once in a lifetime opportunity. I have very little doubt that you would be the Hogwarts champion and I do think you could win the whole competition. But it is of course true that it is a dangerous affair. Albus will do his best to keep everyone safe, I am sure, but still … In any case I do trust your judgment, but do not make your decision lightly.

When it comes to the other matter … I will try to subdue my dislike for the Blacks and answer as objectively as I can. It pains me to say but I have to agree with your and Miss Black’s assessment. It is certainly not fair, if what you have told me about the girl is true. If it were just about her parents and uncle, maybe Kingsley could be convinced to give her a chance to prove herself. But it is not just that. The specter of Sirius Black will make it impossible for her to become an Auror. They will find a way to keep her from joining, I can guarantee it.

Finally, I must add a warning. Be careful with the Lestranges. I trust your judgment when it comes to Miss Black, but I fear you might have underestimated her fiancé and his family. They are ruthless, brutal and will stop at nothing to realize their goals. They will move against you, if they see you as a threat to them, which you most certainly are, you brilliant, beautiful grandchild of mine!

Remember, you can achieve anything if you put your mind to it!

Love,  
Magrath

P.S.: The Blacks are also ruthless, brutal and on top of it cunning. Do not let them take advantage of you. Constant vigilance! Speaking of which, do give Alastor my best.

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think? Let me know!


End file.
